Page 33 of The Cotswolds Christmas Fair

Offended, Jen frowned. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked, thinking of her Instagram feed that was mostly filled with pictures of burgers and cats she saw on the street and herself after a few gin and tonics. She flushed at the thought, and regretted having given Anthony her real name.

‘Oh, come on. This guy’s not for you, I mean, he’s all – you know, intellectual.’

This wasn’t helping. ‘I can be intellectual.’

Ted gave her a steady look. ‘Jen. He writes actual poems. And reads them out to a load of serious people. And he draws – he does, like, actual portraits. Look at this stuff. He quotes Dostoevsky! He’s all – arty, and stuff.’

‘I’m arty!’

‘You’re . . . creative.’

She gave him a black look.

‘I can draw. Well, I can learn! I can . . . I don’t know . . . do a YouTube tutorial or something.’

Ted looked doubtful. ‘Sounds like a lot of work.’

‘No, but – I think he’s worth it. I – when we met on the train I just had this feeling, and then, we talked all night in the bar and even today, the way we’ve been talking, it’s not . . . not like dating usually is. It’s scary, but . . .’

Ted looked at her, his dark eyes taking her in. Jen stared back, feeling her own vulnerability, letting him see it. He was the only person in the world she would trust to have this conversation with; he’d seen her in a far worse state than this, and never let her down.

‘Wow,’ he said softly. ‘You’re really serious about this one.’

She shifted on her seat, fiddled with her napkin. ‘I think so. Yes.’

He whistled and shook his head, grinning. ‘I know you said you might be ready, but I wasn’t sure if – well. I never thought I’d see the day.’

‘Nor me.’

‘OK, well, you know Sarah runs an art class in the village hall – I can ask if you could go, if that helps?’

She shrugged. ‘I mean, I probably won’t still be here, but yes, if I’m still stuck . . .’ She grimaced at the thought. ‘That would be good, yeah. Come with me though? It’ll be fun. Please. Come on, it’s the least you can do, you did get me trapped in bloody Babblebrook and then abandon me to my sodding sister, after all.’ She knew if she gazed at him long enough he’d give in, big softie that he was.

‘I did you a favour, Babblebrook’s lovely,’ he said indignantly.

‘Babblebrook’s boring.’

‘And you love spending time with the kids, don’t deny it, I can see it in your face when you’re with them. What would you be rushing home for, anyway?’

He had her there. The truth was, she had no regular job to go back to at the moment. She’d been applying for temporary Christmas jobs in bars and shops, but nothing had come up. She suspected they were looking for younger candidates. She had savings and she could always get a few hours of bar work in her local, but that had felt less fun recently. She was bored of dealing with drunken antics every night, and she found herself feeling tired before she even started her shift these days. Jen always got restless, and she knew she needed a change. She just hadn’t envisaged that change coming in the form of a sleepy Cotswolds village, still less her impossible-to-live-up-to sister.

‘You still owe me,’ she muttered.

Ted sighed and raised his palm. ‘OK, fine. I’ll come with you. Just stop pestering me about staying with me, it’s good for you to spend some time with Julia and the kids, and I’m too busy anyway. Organising this fair has turned into a total—’

Jen squealed and leapt from her seat to hug him, bending over him as he sat at the table. ‘Thank you! Thank you, I knew you would, you’re such a good friend.’ She leaned over and grabbed the last piece of his cake, shoving it into her mouth. ‘Right, I’ve got to go, said I’d help with bathtime.’

‘You know, you could always try something else with this guy,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘Just – be yourself.’

Her mouth fell open, almost dropping the last piece of cake onto the floor. ‘Are you insane?’

She’d never heard such a ridiculous suggestion.

Chapter Fifteen

It wasn’t a date.

Just a coffee, just an in-person chat, because they were both stranded in a place they didn’t know and, in Jen’s case at least, didn’t want to be.